


Watching the Fire Glow

by TheatreSteph



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Bellamy Blake, Light Angst, Pining Clarke Griffin, Season/Series 01, Title from a Taylor Swift Song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28190541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheatreSteph/pseuds/TheatreSteph
Summary: The Hundred are struggling through their first winter on Earth, and all Clarke wants is rest and for Finn to leave her alone. She also wants her brooding, protective co-leader and best friend Bellamy to help her keep warm, but she's too busy to realise it. Little does she know that Bellamy wants that too. And to punch Finn in his stupid face.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 20
Kudos: 144
Collections: Bellarke-Mas Secret Santa





	Watching the Fire Glow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MABlake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MABlake/gifts).



> For the 2020 Bellarke Secret Santa, prompted by Zuu! I hope you like it, love! Title is from Taylor Swift's original Christmas song Christmas Tree Farm.

As the snow from the Hundred's first winter fell from the sky, Clarke fought to control the shivers that wracked her body. Though the camp's medbay operated within the Dropship, the metal walls provided scarce warmth from the chill. As she tended to her patients, many whining from the temperature, Clarke ground her teeth together, both to bite back her frustration at the kids, and to stop them from chattering. The last thing she needed was an anxious patient thinking the camp doctor couldn't take care of herself.

When she'd finally finished her rounds and had provided as much warmth and comfort as she could, she washed her hands in the closest bowl of clean water she could find. Just as she was about to breathe and release the tension from her shoulders, in walked Finn, and she suddenly wanted to run back to the whiny patients.

"Clarke, we really need to talk" he said with those same puppy-dog eyes he wore every time he spoke to her. It took all her restraint not to roll her eyes at the look.

"I really think we don't."

"Clarke, please," he moved closer and tried to take her hand, "it's about us-"

"There is no us!" Hearing the volume of her voice, she bit her lip in an attempt to calm herself. Realising he was still holding her hand, she pried it off and stepped back to remove him from her personal space. "Finn, we were never dating and we aren't now".

His eyebrows drew together in sadness, though Clarke couldn't imagine what right he had to be sad. Raven still cared about him even though she'd ended things, and no one in the camp treated him like dirt for being a cheater, either because they didn't know or simply didn't care. If Clarke were being honest, it was actually pretty fucking annoying that he got to break her heart and now come back for more without any consequences or shame.

"Maybe we weren't _dating_ , but we were _something_. We _are_ something."

Clarke clenched her jaw and looked him straight in the eyes. "We're not. Finn, please understand that. Whatever we had is over for me, so if you actually care about how I feel, respect that I don't want to be with you and definitely don't want to talk about whatever happened in the past."

Without waiting for him to respond, she strode out the door and braved the snow, resolving that frostbite was preferable than looking at him another minute.

From the edge of the fence, Bellamy watched with unconscious interest as Clarke marched from the Dropship with fire in her eyes, his animal furs wrapped over his shoulders. His concern turned to anger as Spacewalker slowly emerged a moment later, his stupid, floppy hair and punchable face downcast in disappointment.

 _What right does he have to be upset?_ , Bellamy thought. _He only has himself to blame for lying to Clarke and playing with her feelings_.

Bellamy returned his gaze to the snow-covered perimeter, his rifle in hand for any Grounder attacks. Octavia might tell him it was unnecessary since they hadn't been attacked in nearly two months and it seemed unlikely that they'd attack in this weather, but they both knew they couldn't let their guard down yet. As Clarke had reminded him multiple times in the last month, they had been lucky to lose so few before the tentative peace had formed with the clans. Every time she reminded him of this, Bellamy countered that they were more fortunate that she'd been able to save Anya's second, Tris, and negotiate a peace treaty with the Commander, especially since the Exodus ship crashed and they'd lost contact with the Ark, though he didn't remind her of that part often.

He still remembered how she'd cried that night, the loss of her mother a stronger pain than the knowledge of her betrayal. For reasons he wouldn't let himself acknowledge, it hurt him to see her in pain. For all their differences and arguments when they'd first landed, he knew she was a good person, and that she deserved better than the shit she'd been through. She was kind, even if she hid it when she needed to be firm, and she was unfathomably smart and strong, not to mention beautiful. He was in awe of her, so how was it possible that someone as absolutely breathtaking as her apparently deserved to have her heart broken over and over again?

Bellamy's throat tightened as he thought of all the shit she'd been through; her father, Wells, her mother, and of course Finn's seemingly endless act of sad boy who thinks he's entitled to her.

"Fuck him" Bellamy muttered under his breath, a determined glint returning to his dark eyes. He couldn't bring her family back, but he could be there for her if Spacewalker tried his bullshit again.

That night, Clarke made her way to the warmth of the pit, desperate for the heat of the flames. If she were wearing the soft furs the Grounders had helped them make as per the terms of the treaty, she wouldn't have been so cold. But when multiple patients had a fever, and the guards and younger kids always needed them, there were always people who needed them more. She could stand to freeze a bit.

The crackle of the embers on the wood was less profound in the winter, but she could still hear it faintly under the noise of the wind. It was a comforting thought, that something as normal as the camp fire still sounded the same even as the change in the season brought new challenges. She let herself smile about it, and tried to list other things that seemed constant. She felt her comfort fade, as the list consisted mainly of things that gave her stress; whiny patients, less than a preferable amount of resources, Finn's stupid puppy-dog eyes. But then she thought of Bellamy, of his steadfast presence, of his unwavering commitment to the Hundred, of the support he gave her when no one else could, and for a moment, all she felt was warmth.

Seeking his gaze, she looked across the fire pit and saw him climb down one of the ladders from the fence and pass his rifle to Monroe, clearly having finished his shift. He was wearing one of the furs over the guard jacket that housed his broad shoulders, and his black hair was slightly longer than when they'd landed, the cold wind keeping it boyishly messy. She felt an unexpected urge to call him over, hold him close and run her hands through those black curls.

As if sensing her thoughts, he turned to look at her, only to immediately furrow his brows in his classic angry Bellamy face.

"Clarke!" He rushed around the pit and pulled her up to stand, quickly bundling her in his furs. "What the fuck are you doing out here!?"

Her instinct to argue back took hold, and the strange urge to touch his hair melted away.

"What does it look like, Bellamy?" she held her ground with her chin in the air.

"It looks like you're being an idiot and using the fire to warm up instead of wearing a fur," he answered, his brown eyes narrowed in anger, "which seems a bit hypocritical since it was you who lectured everyone about the importance of wearing them, especially on nights like this!"

Clarke rolled her eyes at the obvious flaw in his argument. "I also said that they have to be shared by necessity, Bellamy! Patients take priority, then younger kids and essential personnel like the guard-"

He took her by the shoulders to make her look him in the eye as he fired back " _You_ are essential, Clarke! Don't you get that!? You're our doctor! What happens if you freeze to death and there's no one here to treat the patients?"

They had had similar fights like this every once in a while, and she always responded the same way. "You know I've been training Octavia and-"

"And _you_ know that even if you trained them for a year that they still wouldn't be half as brilliant as you!" he sighed and rubbed his shoulders, his jacket from the Ark clearly providing little protection from the cold. "Besides, you're deflecting. Aside from the fact that you're a doctor, which I will again remind you is always an essential position, you need to stay healthy because you're a leader! We need you!"

Before Clarke could respond - or worse, fully contemplate the look in his eyes as he spoke - Finn rushed over and inserted himself right in front of Bellamy.

"Clarke, is he bothering you?"

Though he had addressed her, his attention was entirely focused on clenching his jaw at Bellamy, who oh-so charmingly responded by telling Finn to fuck off.

She rolled her eyes and pushed Finn to the side, refusing to let him think she was his damsel in distress. "Finn, we're fine. Please let me handle this."

"Come on, Clarke. You don't need to listen to him yell at you."

"I'll decide that for myself, thanks" she bit back.

"You heard her, Spacewalker," Bellamy said, not even trying to hide his annoyance.

Finn glared at Bellamy again, but unfortunately for her, he turned back to face her with those stupid, fucking puppy-dog eyes, and said "Clarke, I still think we should-"

And then Bellamy punched him.

Clarke could tell by the point of contact and sound of the impact that it wasn't a serious injury. At least, not serious enough to make her feel compelled to help Finn. She did, however, feel like she'd had enough fighting for the night, both verbal and physical.

Not looking at either of them, she said "Finn, you'll live. Bellamy, you can't punch him just cause you're pissed off. I can look after myself, and that goes to both of you."

She shoved the fur back at Bellamy and left for the Dropship without another word.

Though he was frustrated with himself, Bellamy couldn't deny that it had felt pretty satisfying to punch Spacewalker. What unfortunately wasn't fun was the lingering throb in his right hand. As much as he wanted to respect Clarke's desire for space, he also knew he needed a bandage of sorts from the medbay in the ship, so if he happened to come across her in the process, he had valid reason. And while that reason was the direct result of actions that caused her to be mad at him in the first place, it was a reason nonetheless.

He pushed aside the makeshift door and washed his hand in the tub of cold water, gritting his teeth at the temperature. After disinfecting it with Monty's moonshine, he checked the inventory for any spare gauze, or at least a cloth to wrap it in for the night. His efforts appeared to be in vain.

"Damnit" he muttered.

"If I weren't here, that would be your punishment for punching Finn." He whirled around to see Clarke standing in the entryway, arms crossed and face unimpressed as she looked at him.

"But you are here" he said, and he couldn't keep the surprise and relief out of his voice. Evidently, she couldn't keep the slight smirk off her face at his response.

"Yeah, I'm here."

She approached him with what he could only guess was the last of the bandages they had, his heart hitching a little at the thought that she believed he was worth it. He noticed as she started wrapping his hand how much smaller hers were in comparison. He also noticed that she was purposefully focusing on his hand and not meeting his gaze.

"There, that should do it" she said. She turned to leave, but he quickly yet gently stopped her by taking her small right hand in his larger left one. She looked at him with wariness and confusion, then asked softly, "Bellamy, what are you doing?"

He was momentarily at a loss for words. He thought that he could swim forever in the blue of her eyes, and he felt her pink lips calling to him in a way he'd never felt before.

"I just... I want you to know that you deserve far better than how Spacewalker treated you. And I just wish you'd take care of yourself. It's not just the camp that needs you," he took a breath to gather his courage, then said, "I need you."

He could feel his heart beating rapidly. When he saw the way her eyes shimmered, he could tell she felt it, too.

"Bellamy... look up."

His brows furrowed slightly in confusion, but he followed her gaze as she looked at the ceiling. What he saw was a crudely made bunch of leaves hanging from a string, but he recognised it for what it was supposed to be. They had all seen footage from Earth before the bombs during their schooling, and it was a tradition in an old holiday known as Christmas to hang a plant called mistletoe from the ceiling.

"Some of the kids thought it would be fun to bring some festive traditions back now that we're on the ground again" Clarke said nervously.

Bellamy smirked as he returned his gaze to her. "Well, 'tis the damn season."

They both chuckled, then he leaned his head down and kissed her beckoning lips. They started slow, then she kissed him back with heat, and he forgot how tender his hand was as he wrapped it around her back. He internally cursed at how the pain made him break the kiss.

"Are you okay?" Clarke asked worriedly.

Bellamy couldn't help but smile at the concern on her face. "I'm fine. It's not as important as kissing you again."

"I have a better idea first" she said with a smile.

She took his hand and gently kissed his injured knuckles. Bellamy felt undeserving of such care and devotion, but he would be damned if he didn't spend the rest of his life paying it back tenfold. She would tell him later that that's what they did; they gave each other the love they didn't feel worthy of. For now, it was enough to kiss under the mistletoe.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
